


Warmth in cold water

by BeforeDawn



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Titanic AU, Well not really, the scene we should have got
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 14:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeforeDawn/pseuds/BeforeDawn
Summary: The ship of dreams, doomed from the moment it set sail. With desperation, Lucy and Flynn try to change its course - but somethings are fated to be,





	Warmth in cold water

**Author's Note:**

> Uploaded to tumblr a while back and finally decided to upload it here

It was a trap. 

Looking back, Lucy thinks that it was so glaringly obviously a trap, because what could they really change about the Titanic. The boat sinks, some people escape, and some don’t - as much as she would like to change the outcome, it just didn’t seem possible.

Yet Rittenhouse had gone to Southampton, 10th April 1912 and even Wyatt had known it would be to do with the Titanic, the  _ship of dreams_ that turned out to be anything but. 

They had split up, her with Flynn and Wyatt with Rufus, in an attempt to find Emma and find out what the hell was going on here. Herself and Flynn had found Emma, but Lucy can’t say she remembers much of the encounter, only a  _crunch_  as the pipe had hit the back of her head and everything had faded to black. 

She wakes sometime later and tries to sit up, but her head feels like someone’s running around like a jackhammer when she attempts the slightest bit of movement and she slumps herself back down on the pillows. Something warm rests heavily across her stomach, a quick glance to her side reveals Flynn sleeping next to her, arm curled around her waist as he sleeps on his stomach. She almost gets distracted as she studies his sleeping face, though she had now slept in his room a handful of times she had yet to see him sleep because he was always last to fall sleep and first up. She now takes a small opportunity to look at him, his face was softer, the lines less harsh as his burdens fall away. She notes that when he sleeps his mouth is ever so slightly upturned at the corners, almost as if he’s smiling.

* * *

 

Lucy shakes herself from her musings, knowing that working out where the hell she is should really be the most important thing right now. It’s a large room, well decorated with the crystal lights and the expensive bedsheets – yet this still did not give away her location and she didn’t want to move quite yet with a splitting headache. She glances around the room once more, desperate to find some sort of clue and she sees it, so obvious that she wonders how she missed it the first time.

There, on one of the beautifully decorated walls, sat a porthole and its suddenly oh so clear where they are that Lucy wonders how it did not occur to her before.

They were aboard the Titanic.

Panic surges through her and brings her to life, headache quickly ignored as she sits up and begins to shake Flynn to life. He stirs with a groan and the arm around her waist tightens, any other time she would have took comfort, pleasure maybe, at his touch, but not now. Not when there’s a million things running through her head at once.

“Lucy,” his voice is hoarse and she doesn’t miss the way his brows crease in a frown when he blinks himself awake. Like she had done moments before, he goes to push himself upright before grimacing at the pain in his head, “where are we?”

She has to swallow before she can answer, panic curling around her throat like a noose because she had no idea how they’re going to get out of this one alive. “The Titanic,” she tries to keep her voice as even as possible as she says it, but it breaks anyways, and she feels herself quiver at the thought of it.

His only answer is silence, flipping himself over and staring at the celling. She wonders if they were thinking the same thing, that they had been in some binds before, but they really hadn’t been in anything this scale on something that there was no way to stop.

“I bet Rufus and Wyatt aren’t here,” he said evenly, eyes still fixated on the celling. “Emma has probably left 1912 by now, probably didn’t even have any business here. It’s rather genius, put us on the boat that’s doomed and have the other two chase their tails trying to find us while she probably goes somewhere else while we can’t chase her. And if it takes two players out the game, all the more benefit to her.”

Lucy blinks as he so easily unfolds Emma’s plan and she briefly wonders if something similar ever crossed his mind when they were on opposite sides of the war. Yet she quickly shuts down that train of thought, Flynn’s goal had never been to kill them, only to get them out of his way and well, he wasn’t entirely wrong in doing so.

“Even if we did get them to change their course and get them away from the iceberg, there’s still other problems with the ship. It’s structure isn’t sound, any stormy seas could take the ship apart –“

“So, you’re saying that we might be doomed anyways.”

 “Yes.” A sigh leaves his lips at her response and he swings himself out of the bed, striding over to the whiskey decanter and pouring two glasses. He hands her one, perching himself on her side of the bed, one hand coming to rest at the other side of her legs, “at least the room is nice.”

They try to change course anyway, but their efforts make no difference. They are outright laughed at by the Captain and crew and are brushed off by passengers. She can see Flynn’s frustration as the day wared on, his jaw is clenched, and his face has taken on a hard, unreadable expression. Once it would have scared her, not being able to know what he is thinking, but now she knows that he is the calm in the storm, a rock she can cling to as they face the current.

The whole day is spent trying and failing to convince people of the ship’s doomed fate and they eventually find themselves in one of the ballrooms, their third glass of whiskey in hand. Lucy wouldn’t normally allow her guard down so much on a mission, but they were yet to find a solution to their problem and she highly doubted there was a way they could stop this. With a pang, she wishes Rufus were with them because he would be able to explain the problems with the ship better than she could and they’d maybe stand a chance, but instead she was confusing the crew more than helping them understand the problem.

She glances up to find Flynn staring at her, an intense look in his eyes as she wonders if he has perhaps snuck more drinks throughout the day – not that she could blame him for that – but its just so unlike him to be so unguarded. Ballroom music swells through the room in an almost melancholy tune and he stands up so suddenly that he jostles the table when he does so.

“Dance with me,” she blinks for a moment at his words, so surprised that they have left his lips at all. She doesn’t know if it’s the whiskey or the way he’s looking at her like she’s the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen, but Lucy nods her head yes and before she knows it she’s being hauled to her feet and dragged across the room to the dance floor.

The fact that he’s a good dancer shouldn’t surprise her, but it does. There’s a grace to him as he sweeps her up in his arms and twirls them around in time to the music. She had never been much of a dancer herself, but the ease in which Flynn leads her around the dancefloor makes it easy for her steps to fall in time with his.

“So,” he begins, leaning down so that his breath tickles her ear as he speaks. All of a sudden, she’s aware of his hand on her back, burning a hole through her skin and she wishes she were bolder, to close the gap that’s been between them for so long and make good use of that room given to them by Rittenhouse until the demise of the ship. At least she’d go out with a bang. “You want to go to the deck and have our own rendition of  _My Heart Will Go on_.”

The laugh she gives is perhaps louder than the joke merits, but this could very well be their last days alive and so if Garcia Flynn wants to think he is funny, she’ll let him. “Only if in this scenario I’m Jack and you are Rose, I think I’d like to do a bit of saving for once.”

He lets out his own soft chuckle in response and his grip on her waist momentarily tightens. “Lucy,” he says her name in that hoarse way that he does, as if he’s not sure if it’s a curse or a prayer he’s releasing from his lips. “They’ll take the woman and children first, I want you to go with them. Find Rufus and Wyatt and take back the lifeboat.”

It’s now Lucy’s turn for her grip to tighten, she couldn’t believe he would even suggest such a thing. To leave him here, to drown and she was to simply just return and act as if this was a perfectly fine answer to their problem.

“No,” she croaks, her hand curling into the lapel of his suit.

“Lucy I –“

“No.” She repeats, voice resolute as she takes a step to close the gap between them. “The team needs you – I need you. The only way I’m getting off this ship is if we go together. I don’t want to hear any more ideas until you have one that gets us both off. Okay?”

He nods mutely in response and she lets out a breath of relief – at least he wasn’t going to try any heroics and leave her to return on her own. She wouldn’t allow it. She leans her head on his chest and she feels him rest his chin on her head, for now, it would have to be enough.

They pass their days in much of the same way, each days effort to change the fate of the ship as futile as the last. It had been three days already, meaning that they only had one left before they hit an iceberg, it was safe to say that things did not look promising.

At night, they cling to each other despite the large expanse of the bed. Lucy traces patterns of his chest as she wills herself to sleep, fear gripping her like a second skin making it impossible to find some peace to rest. Yet rest she does, with his strong hands stroking her back and murmured Croatian words in her ear and for a moment she forgets, and its enough for sleep to take her over.

When they hit the iceberg, Lucy is holding Flynn’s hand. She had expected it, had been waiting its impending doom for days, but she’s still shocked when the boat rocks with its impact, when the small shudders of it travel up her legs. Through it all, Flynn never lets go of her hand, fingers interlocking with hers as he drags her through the madness, through the hordes of panicking people and the crew who are trying to do something to solve this situation. His hand is her anchor, her safety in the chaos, her calm in the storm.

When she sees it, she curses her stupidity and wonders how details of it slipped her mind. She had been so focused on the impending doom of her ship Lucy had totally forgotten about the things that they can do to lessen the damage. It hits her as she sees the lifeboats neatly lined up and her heart races as she realises that she can do something, she can change the fate of these people.

“Flynn,” she has to shout over the chaos, even though he can’t be more than a foot in front of her. “The first lifeboat, it’ll only take 28 people, but it can fit more – 64, I think. And there’s enough life jackets to go around, I don’t know how much good lifejackets will do for them, but at least they’ll have more of a chance. They won’t just drown.”

The information sparks something in his eyes, an ember that was not there before and Lucy’s sure that he would find the same thing reflect in hers.

Hope.

He springs into action the same way that a fire roars to life, slowly, and then all at once. They were smart enough to come up to the deck as quickly as they could, but there’s still a small crowd between them and the crew members trying to control the situation. Flynn makes it look easy as he uses his large frame to barge through the crowd, her following hot on his heels until they reach the crew at the front.

She has no idea what Flynn says to the crew members, too focused on the mothers holding their children and pleading for help, focused on the fear in these people’s faces and the way the lower classes linger helplessly at the back while the people how had money shamelessly banter for safe passage off the ship at the expense of others. She does however catch his death stare and the young crew members nervous nod and lets out a breath of relief.

Flynn helps load the lifeboats, making sure that each one holds as many as it can before setting off, while Lucy hands out lifejackets. She starts with the lower classes, knowing that these people had the least chance of getting into a lifeboat, but at least she was offering them a chance.

She’s tightening a woman’s lifejacket when she feels his warm hand on her shoulder, she glances up to meet his face, serious and grim. “It’s the last one.”

Guilt rushes through Lucy as she looks back to all the people who’d be left, who’d be left in the freezing water, waiting for help. Sure, they all had life jackets now – but that didn’t ensure their survival. The crushing guilt is enough to make her want to stay, to allow one of them to go in her place, but Flynn’s hand is sure and steady as he takes her own and he drags her away with determination in his step.

He wasn’t letting her die tonight.

She is loaded onto the lifeboat by the same sure hands that brought her to it, but a moment passes as she catches his eye and she sees it, the thing she was sure she would find – he didn’t plan to get on it with her. Panic surges in her chest, she couldn’t lose him, without knowing it, Flynn had become everything that was safe and warm, and she needed him the same way her lungs needed oxygen.

Her hands are fast, gripping his hand once more as soon as he lets her go. He had already turned away, his intense gaze turning around to meet hers with only a hint of shock and he opens his mouth, to protest perhaps, but her grip is steel and her eyes are hard – there is no room for argument here. “You’re coming with me.”

Flynn still looks like he wants to argue, but he sighs and climbs into the boat beside her, their hands still intertwined as he curls up his legs beside hers.

The ocean is cold, but Flynn wraps himself around her as much as he can and her cold fingers bury into his shirt as he presses kisses to her hair and promises her that everything will be alright. They were safe now.

The hotel they find is dingy, but it’ll do for the night. The boat had reached the shore, crowds of people waiting with questions, waiting for the survivors of the ship that was supposed to be indestructible, waiting for people that may never come home.

They had easily been able to lose themselves in the chaos, to slip away from the crowds and into a hotel before they got too crowded. Neither had even thought of getting separate rooms, just wanting to be alone without the heavy burden of knowledge for once, to not feel the weight of  _everything_  resting on their shoulders. They still had to find Wyatt and Rufus, but that could wait until the morning because they needed a minute to breathe, for the weight to lift from their chests.

She sits on the end of the bed, wrapping a blanket around herself as she feels the phantom chill of the ocean lingering on her skin. Her thoughts swim with the faces of those left behind, of the people who only had a slight better chance because they had lifejackets – but that might not change fate for some of them and while they had gotten more people onto the lifeboats, it still didn’t feel like enough.

“We did all that we could,” his voice startles her, she did not feel him sit down next to her, didn’t feel the mattress sink with his weight or the brushing of his thigh against her own.

Lucy glances at him from the side of her eye, anger swelling in her chest as she studies his profile, his strong set jaw, his eyes that seemed to change colour in different lights, ranging from green to grey, of his broad shoulders and hands that held her so safely.

“You were going to leave me,” and she can feel the tears burning behind her eyes as she says it because the thought of not having him next to her right now physically aches and she’s so angry that he would even consider staying behind, leaving her to go on without him. “Why?”

What Garcia Flynn lacks in words, he makes up for with actions. His mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find an adequate answer, before letting out a strangled noise when words fail him. Instead, he presses his lips to hers, his warm hands cradling her face and bringing it towards his so that they meet in the middle.

Its soft and gentle, exactly what she needs from him right now, because she feels like she’s so close to breaking that the slightest thing could make her shatter to pieces. But his kiss it is healing, as if his touch is smoothing over the cracks in her soul, making her whole once more.

His answer is received, known to her as his mouth meets hers, he loves her.

He looks shocked as he pulls back from the kiss, frozen in place as his hands rest limply on her shoulders. She feels the warmth escape her as his hands slowly slide from her body and realises that he fears that he has done something wrong. Before he can leave her entirely, she leans forward and captures his face, her hands finding their way into the silky strands of his hair. It’s her response, her way of telling him what she’s too afraid to leave her lips.

She loves him back.

This kiss is different from the last, it’s open mouthed and raw; a reminder that they are here, and they are alive. His hands reach for her waist tugging her over until she’s straddling his waist and she’s not entirely sure where she ends and where he begins.

The blanket falls from her shoulders, and so does her pain. 


End file.
